


This Class is Ridiculous

by pocketwatchangora



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Bonding, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Child Abuse, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Comfort Sex, Curses, Desperation, Drugs, Dubious Consent, Exhaustion, First Kiss, First Time, Gangbang, Gentle Sex, Group Sex, Help, Hurt/Comfort, Lube, M/M, Magic, Magical War, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Past Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Revenge, Room of Requirement, Sad, Sex is the only way, Sexual Abuse, Shared Enemy, Top Harry, Weird uses of semen, Wizard Chess, getting closer, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 16:08:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13150203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketwatchangora/pseuds/pocketwatchangora
Summary: Harry's suspicions about Malfoy turn into something very different, and he finds himself seeing Draco completely differently





	1. Chapter 1

Harry was looking over the Marauder’s Map, trying to find Malfoy. He hadn’t seen him around for a couple of days so, naturally, he was suspicious. Now he'd found him, just coming up to the 7th floor, surrounded by four other boys' names: Slytherins in the year above, Harry was fairly sure. If Draco was enlisting the help of older, more advanced, wizards then Harry needed to know why.

He grabbed his invisibility cloak and left the Common Room, not even bothering to tell his friend’s where he was off to. He found himself running towards Malfoy and his unusual posse, watching his own footsteps approaching theirs on the Map he didn't even think to hide, when suddenly, the group of footsteps vanished from the map. Harry stopped in his tracks, staring down at the enchanted parchment in utter confusion. Then he realised...the Room of Requirement! Of course, the Room was perfect for any Death Eaters’ plans go become a reality.

Harry ducked into a boys’ bathroom and pulled on his cloak before re-emerging, invisible. He found the tapestry of Barnabas the Balmy and his trolls, and began pacing back and forth, thinking about all the things Malfoy and those 7th years could be doing to aid the Dark Lord.

Once he was exhausted, both physically and mentally, he sat down against the wall, determined to wait until they left and hoping to sneak in when the doors opened.

He was awoken by voices, laughing and jeering, and opened his eyes to see the wall opposite him, where the bricks were usually all there was, had become an ornate doorway, and several 7th year boys were filing through it.

“Damn, I needed that.” One was saying with a grin, making the others laugh, rowdily agreeing and adding.

“It was so good, right?”

“He could charge money and I'd pay, literally.” It wasn’t until they were letting the door close, his mind fogged by sleep, that Harry realised Draco wasn’t with them anymore. He could hear them making dirty, sexual comments as they walked away down the corridor, nudging each other and laughing. Suddenly Harry felt a pang of worry for Malfoy, realising what they’d been doing wasn’t to further Voldemort's cause...it was to have sex! Four older boys...what if they forced Draco? What if they hurt him or worse?! Harry leapt the doors, but too late, his fingers scrabbled at the increasingly smooth stone until the doors appeared to never have existed. Harry swore, and restarted his pacing, his thoughts racing with one sentence, over and over.

I need to see if Malfoy is ok. I need to see if Malfoy is ok. I _need_ to see if Malfoy is ok.

He walked back and forth for what felt like hours, his heart racing in his ears, when, finally, the same ornate doors appeared in the wall. Harry let out a sigh of relief, and rushed in.

He was surprised to the find the room much smaller than usual, about the size of his dormitory. A fire was crackling merrily in the hearth beneath a carved mantelpiece, adorned with roses and thorns, and there was a thick rug on the stone floor basking in the warm orange glow. Two large sofas lined one corner of the rug, the well-stuffed pillows facing the flames like sunflowers.

Opposite the hearth, was a large four-poster bed with velvet curtains drawn back by heavy gold rope, and lying on the mattress amongst the ruffled sheets was Draco Malfoy. He was naked, on his back, his arms and legs at odd angles, like he’d been dropped from a height. His eyes were open, but half lidded, staring up at the bed’s red canopy. His chest was moving so he was alive.

“M…Malfoy?” Harry asked, thinking it better he made himself known as soon as possible. Draco jumped at his voice, and sat up quickly, but his expression was pained and he looked very pale, his white gold hair completely dishevelled. He fumbled for his wand, but it rolled off the bed and clattered loudly on the stone floor. The liquid silver eyes narrowed at him, looking angry and confused and...scared?

“Potter…? What do you- H-how did you get in?” he demanded, looking between Harry and where the door usually appeared, now blank wall once again.

“It…the room let me in…” the Potter boy sort-of lied, leaving out the fact he’d tracked him down and waited for him for over an hour, then begged the room to let him in to check on his nemesis. “Are…are you ok…?” he asked. He could see that, even from a distance, Draco was trembling, and his skin clearly beginning to bruise in places. But the Malfoy didn't seem to be listening. He leaned back on one elbow, curling his body to the side, perhaps attempting to stand up. His movements were slow, like he was fighting some invisible force, and he looked feverish. He let out a small, almost inaudible, whimper as he shifted, his hand gripping the rumpled sheets beneath him.

Harry had never seen Malfoy so…vulnerable. He didn’t have any witty, snake-tongued comments, no insults to hurl at him… It was like he’d lost all of his fight…and Harry didn’t like that. “Do you need anything? I can run and get Madam Pomfrey if you’re hurt-” Draco glared up at him, eyes flashing like steel.

“I-I don’t need your pity… Get out…!” he tried to shout, sound angry, but his voice came out shaky, and weak with pain. His hair fell over his face, but Harry could swear he saw a glistening track slowly making its way down his cheek. His jaw was clenched, shoulder blades stabbing out from beneath his skin as he hunched over, tense.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone like this.” Harry said decisively, no one deserved to be left alone like this, abused and discarded. He saw the darkest bruises were on his bony hips, and more were forming on his delicate wrists, the size of men’s hands.

Malfoy glared at him through his white veil of hair, then let out a shaky sigh.

“Make yourself useful then…get my wand…” he said, his voice wavering slightly. Harry nodded and obeyed, going around the bed to retrieve it. He found it quickly, though had to get on his knees to reach under the bed for it. He went back round to give it to Draco, who was slowly and shakily trying to push himself off the bed. Without thinking it through, Harry took hold of Draco’s skinny bicep in an attempt to assist him.

“Let me help you-” he started, but Draco jolted back from the touch like he’d been burned, slapping his hand away savagely. Harry looked at him to find terror in his eyes, and anger and sadness. He didn’t speak, just stared at him, and Harry looked down. “Sorry…I won’t touch you again…” he said softly. He saw Draco’s jaw tighten but he didn’t say anything. He waved his wand over himself.

“Coriumtersus,” he said softly, and his skin became clean and dry before Harry’s eyes, including whatever was on his thighs. Draco glanced at Harry before lowering his voice even more to murmur “Internumtersus,” his breath catching and back shivering as he waved his wand. He sighed, placing a shaky hand on the bedpost, using it as a support as he slid himself off the bed. His feet barely touched the ground before his knees buckled and he almost fell, but Harry caught him.

“Malfoy, for God’s sake…” he muttered, hauling the skinny boy back onto the bed. Draco hissed in discomfort when his bum hit the mattress, making Harry feel a bit bad. “Look, just…stay there, until you feel better…” he said with a sigh. Malfoy glared at him, but obeyed, pushing himself to lie on his side across the bed. “Where are your clothes?” Harry asked him, trying not to look at Malfoy’s arse.

“They…disintegrated…” Draco muttered, sounding vaguely annoyed. Harry frowned, and sighed, pulling off his own robes to drape over Malfoy. The blond looked at him, about to be offended by Harry’s pity, but seemed to check himself and accepted the sheltering, covering fabric, still warm from Harry’s skin. He sighed and lay down, his eyes closing by themselves before he forced them open.

“You can sleep if you want to…” Harry said, thinking Draco probably needed more sleep. Malfoy glared at him, defiance and mistrust in his colourless eyes. “I can leave if-” but to his surprise, Draco’s eyes widened before he seemed to be able to stop it, and he looked down.

“No, Potter…don’t go…” he said softly, blushing a very delicate pink. Harry faltered for a moment, surprised and delighted.

“Ok.” He said, and Malfoy glanced at him. Harry noticed again that he was trembling, despite the warm cloak over him and the fire-heated room. “Are you…feeling ok? You’re shaking…” Draco sighed, ignoring the question.

“If you’re so concerned, Potter…pass me that water jug and a glass.” He said, pointed to the table beside Harry. He obeyed, bringing the jug full of iced water and lemon, and a glass. He placed them both on the ornate bedside table, the top surface of which was inlaid with rose motifs. Draco sighed, and pushed himself to sit up slowly. His brow furrowed and his jaw tightened in apparent discomfort, but he was able to do it himself, though Harry was poised to help him if he asked. He settled himself back on the cushions, pulling Harry’s robe on the way it was designed so it covered him completely.

Harry saw Draco’s hand shakily reach for water jug and, doubting he’d be able to lift it right now, poured a glass out for him. He handed it over before Draco could protest, and Malfoy only gave him a small glare before sitting forward to sip the cool liquid, holding the glass in both hands.

He sighed once he’d swallowed, drinking the rest slightly more desperately. He put the glass back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and Harry could see him watching him out of the corner of his eye. Harry then realised he was standing over Draco somewhat ominously, and he moved away to sit on the end of the bed. He looked around the room, thinking it felt similar to the Gryffindor dorms.

He looked at Draco to see him doing the same, his hand absently touching the soft fabric of the quilt.

“Is in here as nice as the Slytherin dorms?” he asked. Draco looked a bit surprised by the question but sighed.

“They’re cold and dark.” He said simply, combing his ruffled hair back with his fingers, trying to retain some dignity, and looking almost his usual self. “Crabbe and Mott both snore like a dragon with a head cold…” he muttered, surprising Harry with his honesty.

“So does Ron.” He said with a chuckle, and looked up to see Draco looking at him, suspiciously. “What?” he asked.

“Why…are you here…? Why did you come in? You must have asked the room to open.” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly. Harry cleared his throat nervously and shrugged.

“I just…wanted to make sure you’re ok…” Draco frowned, still staring at him. Harry sighed, deciding Draco would prefer him to be honest. “I was…worried about you. I _am_ worried about you.”

“Worried…?” he asked slowly, like the concept itself completely baffled him.

“Yeah…just, you know, seeing you…like this… Being mistreated…” Draco pushed himself up on one arm at that, angry, though his face paled a little at the movement.

“I wasn’t mistreated. Don’t you understand? I wanted this.” He said, but his eyes betrayed him. Harry looked at him a moment, then sighed.

“Your…your shoulder’s bleeding…” Harry said, almost like it made his point.

Draco faltered. He forced himself to sit up, drawing his long legs up and pulling Harry’s robes to cover himself. He moved a shaking hand to messily smear the small trickle making its way down his chest, coming from what could have been a bite mark, or a blade’s. He looked at the red on his hand, frowning at it. “Did you want that?” Harry asked him. Draco looked at him, then sighed, wiping the blood on Harry’s robe. He looked down, his expression sad. He seemed to think for a moment, then spoke.

“They gave me a potion…I don’t know what it was.” He said quietly. Harry was horrified by this, that Draco would allow himself to be given some mystery potion. “They often do – it makes me dizzy and tired…” Harry was about to express his profound distress at this practice but stopped. “I know it’s stupid, but I prefer it honestly…it makes it feel less real…”

“Draco…do they, um- they don’t force you, do they…?” Harry asked, terrified. Draco smirked coldly, though not with his usual arrogance, and shrugged.

“Not really…” he said vaguely. “My body needs it, but my mind would rather be elsewhere.” He said. If Draco saw Harry’s confusion, he ignored it, crossing his arms over his skinny chest casually. Harry swallowed thickly, wanting more answers from Draco while he was being so open.

“Why do you…um… When did you start…you know…um-”

“Sleeping around?” Draco asked, impatient with Potter’s stuttering. The blond sighed, resting his head back against the headboard, looking up at the bed’s canopy. “Last year.”

“Was that your first time?” Harry asked, surprised Malfoy was being so honest, but he assumed maybe it was a side effect of whatever those bastards had given him to make him so compliant. He felt guilty, taking advantage of him after he was clearly drugged, but what other chance would he get?

Draco shook his head, his steely eyes closing slowly. Harry thought he’d fallen asleep for a moment, then the space between the thin eyebrows creased.

“I was raped my first time.” He said finally. Harry stared at him, horrified.

“W…what…?” he asked, his blood running cold.

“When I was 15, over the summer before 5th year.” He said, turning his head to the side, away from Harry. He wasn’t crying, but his jaw was tight and his voice shaky and quiet. “Someone…someone came to the house and…” he stopped, then looked at Harry with those stormy eyes. There was pain in his eyes, more pain than Harry had ever seen, caged inside a body and mind that desperately denied it was there. “It was…V-…V-…” he looked frustrated for a moment, as if trying to say the name but couldn’t.

“No… Voldemort was your-…?” Harry wanted to cry, it was so awful. Someone so evil taking something so precious, and so young. Draco flinched at the name, involuntarily, and nodded stiffly, looking down.

“He came to our house and said…my father needed to do something to pay for his treachery. After the Chamber of Secrets…he was furious with my father. He wanted to kill him, make us lose everything, but…I suppose he wanted something else out of it. S-so…father asked him what he wanted. ‘Anything, my Lord’, he said.”

_“Anything?” the high, cruel voice asked, amused. Lucius Malfoy nodded from his position on the floor, the crackling fire behind making him look like he was burning along with the logs. The Dark Lord pretended to think for a moment, his long claw-like fingernails clacking loudly against the mahogany table was amplified in the silent room._

_“Yes, my Lord, anything that is within my power to bestow!” Lucius promised pathetically, desperation in his eyes. He didn’t want to die. Voldemort smirked down at him, he did so love it when they groveled._

_“Very well. Draco, come here.” He hissed. Draco felt everything go cold, every happy thought ejected from his conscious, like there was a dementor right behind him, a second shadow. The Dark Lord hadn’t spoken to him at all when Lucius was introducing him, just glanced over him, unimpressed._

_He felt Narcissa jump beside him, her gasp loud before she thought to stop it. Lucius looked over at his son, his face blank with terror._

_Voldemort’s gleaming red eyes turned to stare at Draco, and he shivered. A grin slowly crept over the snake-like face. “Draco. Come here.” He said again, his voice ripping through the room like a slashing blade, the flick of a snake's tongue. He wondered vaguely where Nagini had slithered off to; probably consuming one of the Manor's prized peacocks whole..._

_Draco felt his mother’s hand grip his shoulder tightly, as if trying to stop him going, but he stepped forward, and her hand fell away like lace. He heard her begin to cry into her handkerchief, a rock forming in his stomach. He walked across the cold marble of his home’s sitting room, where he liked to sit for hours in one of the big cushiony armchairs to read._

_His eyes were fixed on the Dark Lord, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it. His father stood up slowly, his breathing shaking as he stared at his son._

_Draco stopped just out of Voldemort’s reach, staring up at him, utterly terrified but trying to keep his face still, his Malfoy blood running cold. The Dark Lord towered over the 15-year-old, his waxy, scale-like skin luminous in the dimly lit room, the orange light from the fire making his red eyes burn as he grinned down at the boy._

_“Come closer, Draco. Let me touch you.” He hissed, making Draco want to scream and run. He gulped, unable to blink as he looked up at him, and stepped forward. A long, bone-white hand extended from the sleeve of his black robes, the icy skin touching his own and making Draco’s breathing catch, resisting the overwhelming urge to move away from the chilling touch._

_“M…my Lord…?” Lucius’ voice asked hesitantly, after what felt like hours of Voldemort staring at Draco, his cold skin turning his veins to ice._

_“Draco will be sufficient as repayment.” The high voice said finally, still grinning cruelly at the child before him. “I will come here once a month, while he is at home. During these times, he is mine, and we are not to be disturbed. I believe that is well within your 'power', Lucius…” he said, mockingly, his evil eyes never once leaving Draco’s terrified ones. The cold hand moved from Draco’s cheek to grip his bony shoulder tightly, moving to stand beside him. “Come, Draco, we can begin settling your father’s debt immediately…” he said, his fingers snaked down Draco’s spine to the small of his back, pushing him towards  door. Draco looked back with wide eyes. His parents stood in front of the fire, their shoulders hunched and heads down, Lucius staring back at him blankly while Narcissa sobbed bitterly into her handkerchief, refusing to touch her husband._

“He laughed when I screamed…and he liked it when I bled…” Draco muttered, shaking his head. Harry felt like he was listening to someone’s nightmare, he truly couldn’t imagine anything worse. Draco sighed, like he’d been complaining about a lot of homework, something trivial, except his breath shook. “Every time I have sex, I’m being raped…I never want to. It’s my body, it…it’s cursed or… I need to have sex, or I start to feel…awful, like I’m dying, like I’m on fire. But I never want to. These…people I meet here, I don’t _want_ to have sex with any of them, but I have to, to make it stop.” He said, finally looking at Harry with wide eyes.

He wasn’t crying, but he wanted to, Harry could see that, plain as day. “He owns me…” he said softly, looking down. The moment the first tear fell, Harry darted forward and pulled Draco Malfoy into his arms to hug him. Draco didn’t even try to resist, crying into Harry’s shoulder. He was almost completely silent, his tears only apparent when Harry’s shirt became damp under his head. He hugged Draco tightly, rubbing his bony back through his own robes.

“It’s ok, Draco… He can’t touch you here, you’re safe…”

“I know he can’t…” Draco said softly, his voice small. “But he’s there w-when I go home…I hate the sight of it now, it makes me feel sick… My parents’ faces make me want to scream and…I-I can’t breathe in my own room, where I’ve slept since I was born…!” he sobbed the last part, his poor body shaking. Harry instinctively held him closer, moving him to sit across his own lap so he might feel safe, wrapping his arms around his nemesis protectively. Harry shushed him gently, murmuring reassuring words he didn’t believe. If Draco was under Voldemort’s control, the only way to stop it was to kill the Dark Lord.

They stayed there, like that, for a while. Harry had no idea how long until he realised Draco had fallen asleep. His head was on Harry’s shoulder, his body curled up in his lap, fingers still idly holding Harry’s shirt where they’d previously been clutching it for dear life. Harry’s heart swelled unexpectedly when he saw Draco’s face, slightly pink and blotchy around his sore eyes, but so serene… He’d never seen anyone look so relaxed, it was wonderful to see after so much pain and sadness that had been there before.

Harry very gently moved them both to lie down against the pillows, not wishing to wake Draco up, and couldn’t compel himself to sit up again and leave. Instead, he kicked off his own shoes, placed his glasses on the bedside table, pulled the quilt over the both of them, and closed his eyes.

*

Harry woke up very early in the morning, before Draco, feeling surprisingly refreshed and happy. He’d never really woken up beside anyone before, except Ron, and on one occasion when he and Dudley had been forced to share a bed...but never like this.

His arms were wrapped around Draco’s waist, their bodies close and warm. He would have been aroused if it hadn’t been for his knowledge of Draco’s sexual past, and how much pain it caused the Malfoy boy. Learning about what he’d been through with Voldemort, of _all_ people, made Harry want to wrap his arms around Draco and never let go. He made a vow to the sleeping boy beside him, that when he finally did kill the Dark Lord, Draco would be one of the people he did it for.

It was a short while before Draco woke up. The silver eyes opened slowly, blinking himself awake after a little stretch and experimental snuggle into Harry’s warmth. His vision focussed on Harry, and his face went from sleepy, to confused, to horrified in about 3 seconds. He jerked away from Harry, looking around frantically, drawing himself up and away from him.

“P-Potter?! What- Where- Why are you-…!” he trailed off, completely baffled. Harry sat up, clearly showing himself to be fully dressed, and put on his glasses.

“Calm down, Malfoy. Do you remember anything?” he asked steadily, rubbing his eyes of sleep. “You _were_ quite high, to be honest…” Draco glared at him for a moment, slowly realising that all he was wearing was Gryffindor robes and where he was. His expression cleared slightly as he began to recall the events, but still looked at Harry with suspicion.

“I remember…why I was in here… You…came in and…and we talked…?” he asked slowly, looking at Harry as if begging for confirmation, either that all they had done was talk, or that he hadn’t said anything incriminating in his drugged state.

“We did talk, yeah. You told me some...disturbing stuff… You cried until you fell asleep and…I suppose I didn’t want to, you know, leave…” he told him honestly. “I ended up falling asleep too…and here we are.” Draco seemed to be having a personal battle in his own head, frowning slightly at Harry, then he sighed deeply.

“I haven’t slept that well in a long time…” he admitted softly. Harry grinned.

“Me neither actually. Lucky neither of us snore, I suppose.” He said. Draco smirked despite himself, and glanced at him.

“Thank you, Potter… Usually after I come here…I leave alone and it’s cold and…- Thanks…” he finished, apparently both impatient and shy with his words. Harry smiled, and checked his watch.

“Well, it’s only 5 o’clock…we could sleep a bit more…” Draco looked at him for a moment, possibly tempted, then shook his head.

“I want to get back, so no one asks questions…” he said, shifting towards the edge of the bed. Harry nodded his agreement, though he knew his own friends no longer questioned him when he was inexplicably absent. He watched Draco gingerly push himself off the bed and stand up, using the bed post for support. He seemed much stronger than he had the night before, the sleep erasing the potion’s effects and healing his body. “I…I don’t have any clothes…” he said, looking down at Harry’s robes and his own bare feet. They’d even destroyed his shoes, laughing about how his daddy would just buy him a nicer pair.

“Oh, right… You can wear my robes for now, I’ll walk you back under my invisibility cloak.” Harry said. Draco turned to look at him, and nodded, looking down before turning away. Harry sighed, yawned, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed to put his shoes back on. Thinking about it, he pulled his socks off and held them out to Draco. “Put these on, your feet must be freezing.” He said imperiously. Draco looked at the socks, his nose wrinkling with mild disgust, but took them and pulled them onto his obviously cold feet. Harry smirked and put his shoes on his bare feet, strangely reminded of the day he set Dobby free from the Malfoy family.

He stood up, grabbing his invisibility cloak from where he’d left it over the back of the sofa. Draco followed him to where the door had appeared in the previously blank wall and they both got under Harry’s cloak, heading down to the Slytherin dungeons. They didn’t speak, sneaking through the corridors and down the stairs. They had to stay close together under the cloak to make sure it covered them both fully. Harry could hear Draco’s teeth chattering in the silence of the corridor, and resisted a strange urge to put his arm around him.

They finally arrived at the Slytherin common room, Draco having whispered ‘agoraphobia’ to a blank wall in the dungeons, which then dissolved to reveal the passageway. They went in and Draco quickly grabbed a discarded Slytherin robe from a chair.

“Close your eyes.” He hissed at Harry, who obeyed mostly. He caught a glimpse of a pale, bony shoulder and the profile of a hard little nipple as Draco swapped Harry’s robe for this one. The robe, and his socks, were then placed into Harry’s hands, and Draco told him to leave before ducking out from under the cloak.

“Ok, night.” Harry said without really thinking. Draco glared in the vague direction of Harry’s invisible form, and marched off to his dormitory, wearing a huge robe, and barefooted. Harry smirked, and went back up to his own bed in Gryffindor tower.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hermione…are there lots of different kinds of curses?” Harry asked her one day when they were sitting in the library together. Ron was in a detention with Snape, after he accidentally tipped over a whole shelf of ingredients when he was hexed with a leg-locking spell in Potions. He’d tried to blame one of the Slytherins for jinxing him, but obviously Snape had ignored his protests, despite the Slytherins all laughing victoriously behind him, including Malfoy. Hermione looked up from her copy of History of Magic: Obscure Edition with a slight frown.

“Yes…of course there are. There’s lots of different kinds of all magic.” She said. He nodded slowly, trying to think of a way to ask her that wasn’t incredibly obvious.

“And…can a curse last for a person’s whole life?” he asked. Her frown deepened, sighing as she put her quill down.

“A long-lasting curse will stay on the person as long as the caster is alive. Once that person is dead, the curse is usually lifted.”

“Usually?” she shrugged, her eyes lighting up as they always did when she got to explain something.

“Some spells will last as long as the wand that cast it remains intact, even if its owner is dead…I think there’s a few very rare spells that last forever, and there’s certainly ones where their effects do, like how the Cruciatus curse can make people go insane… Why?” she asked. He shrugged, trying to look casual as he sat back in his chair.

“Just wondering…” he said, glancing at her. She was looking at him suspiciously and he sighed, why did she always know when he was lying? “I…I’ve heard of some…sexual curses…” he saw Hermione blush instantly, but didn’t look up at her for fear of doing the same. “Um, like ones that…make the person feel really unwell and stuff if they don’t…you know…” he finished, feeling extremely awkward. At least Ron wasn’t there.

“Well…I have heard of things like that…not that in particular but there are spells that can affect someone’s body… It’s dark magic, Harry.” She added, almost warningly. He looked at her, seeing a mild worry in her eyes behind her embarrassment. “Why do you want to know about it?” she asked. Harry sighed, wanting to share it with someone, and he knew he could trust her with this secret, even though it wasn’t his. He leaned forward over the table, and she did the same so they were close enough to talk quietly. He cast a Muffliato spell around them for good measure, he knew Draco would be rather die than anyone find out about his condition. Hermione stared at him, somewhere between alarmed and intrigued

“Ok so, you know…last week when I didn’t come back to the dorm. I said I’d gone to the Shrieking Shack to clear my head?” he asked and she nodded that she did recall. “I lied…I was in the Room of Requirement…with Malfoy.” He said. She looked surprised, but listened intently as he told her everything Draco had told him about Voldemort and what he has to do to keep himself healthy.

“Oh my God, how awful… Poor Draco!” she said, looking upset. “So you think You-Know-Who cursed him to need to do these…things?” Harry nodded. “But why? For revenge?”

“I dunno, maybe… Or he’s just a sick, perverted sadist… Either way…spending that time with Draco made me realise…he’s been through so much horrible shit, it’s no wonder he’s such a prick really. Imagine living in a house full of Death Eaters, and then being…-” he stopped himself saying any more, it made him want to scream. She was nodding, looking down. “Is there any way to break a curse like that? Without killing the caster?”

“I don’t know, Harry, I’m sorry… I assume going to the Room of Requirement with…people, gets rid of his symptoms?” she asked, clearly still embarrassed they were discussing it. Harry sighed and nodded.

“He hates it…said it’s like being _raped_ every time. They gave him a potion so he’d feel dizzy and not really notice – his body needs it, but he pretends he’s somewhere else…” he said, still so sad about it. Hermione bit her lip, looking like she was about to cry. “When I kill Voldemort…I’ll do it for Draco now too.” He said. She looked at him and smiled, nodding.

“Add him to the list.” She said, making him smile too.

*

Time passed normally after that, although Harry certainly took more notice of Draco now. He looked sad sometimes, when he wasn’t engaged in conversation or studying, and his friends certainly seemed to care about him which was good to see. A few instances when the Malfoy boy looked a little off, one of his friend would touch his shoulder and speak to him softly, to which he would smile and now, his mask of normality sliding into place.

Just over a month after their time together, Harry saw Draco with same group of 7th year Slytherins heading upstairs. It was during dinner, Harry running late after falling asleep in the library finishing a Potions essay, the corridors empty. Draco, though not short by any means, looked tiny in the midst of the huge Neanderthals he was with, his eyes uncharacteristically down as they passed. Harry fought the urge to follow, to stop them going into that room and treating Draco so badly again, but he didn’t, couldn’t. He wished he could do something to help his situation, if only he was a better wizard...he wondered if even Dumbledore would be able to erase Voldemort's curse... Harry let out a sigh of frustration and headed into dinner.

The Christmas holidays arrived with snow. Hermione was going to Lapland for a skiing holiday, and Ron's family were going to see Charlie in Romania, so Harry had decided to stay at school and have some time alone, which he was rather looking forward to.

On the 21st, he went to the train station to say goodbye to the others, knowing they were worried he'd spend the entire winter break consumed by his conspiracy theories, only worsened when they saw Draco bidding his friends goodbye as well. Harry felt a pang of sadness and anger at this, realising going home for Draco must be the worst experiences of his life. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Pansy spoke seriously to Draco, holding his shoulder tightly as he nodded, and they hugged like good friends. Then Blaise said something that made Draco laugh and they hugged too, Harry feeling a strange surge of jealously as Blaise’s hand dropped innocently to Draco’s lower back.

“So we'll see you after New Year, ok, Harry?” Hermione asked, frowning slightly at him. He looked at her and grinned, nodding.

“Yeah, have fun skiing.” He said, knowing she wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. She rolled her eyes with a smile and hugged him.

“Please leave Draco alone, Harry, for both your sakes.” She said in his ear softly. He nodded.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna keep to myself. Thinking about doing some research into being an Auror.” He said as they parted. She smiled and nodded, saying that was a good idea, before boarding the train with everyone else. He waved as the train drew away, then headed back to the castle.

*

Harry was just walking back from Christmas Eve dinner when he noticed someone leaning against the wall a little way along the corridor, sort of hunched over like they were in pain. Being who he was, Harry went over to them, hoping nothing was seriously wrong with them. As he got closer, he saw it was a boy, and he was shaking terribly, his pale hand tense on the cold stone. Harry glanced around, seeing they were alone in the hallway, the castle being practically empty at the moment.

“Draco?” he asked when he was close enough to see the white gold hair. The boy jumped and turned, clearly in a lot of discomfort. His face was flushed and he was panting, shaking hand clutching the front of his jumper tightly. His eyes were misty and unfocussed, like he had been hit with an Imperius curse or something.

“Potter…” he managed to get out, sliding down the wall a tiny bit as his strength seemed to flow out of him. Harry expected him to be rude, tell him to leave him alone, try to retain some of his Malfoy pride, but what he actually said stunned Harry completely. “H-help me…” Draco begged softly, his eyes welling with tears of desperation. Harry swore and reached out, impulsively, to grab his arm, but Draco flinched dramatically at the contact, biting his lip as he let out a moan, his body jerking.

“Shit…this is what happens then…” Harry muttered, though Draco probably couldn’t hear him. He was curling into himself, his shaking so bad he could hardly stand. Harry grabbed him around the waist, ignoring his little gasps, and hightailed it up the stairs to the Room of Requirement, practically carrying Draco. The Malfoy boy was close to fainting when they arrived at the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching ballet to his trolls. “What do you ask for?” Harry asked Draco, panting.

“S-somewhere to fuck…” Draco ground out, tears rolling down his heated face. Harry swore and forced him to pace back and forth three times in front of the blank wall, thinking the extremely embarrassing request over and over. Finally, the ornate doors appeared, and Harry rushed them both inside. It was the same as before: the same bed, the same fireplace, sofas, and rug. Harry took Draco over to the bed, and lay him down on the mattress, where he curled into a quivering ball. He looked so uncomfortable, feverish and desperate, Harry’s heart ached…but so did another part of him. Seeing Draco so undone, hot and _willing_ , it turned him on more than anything ever had before.

“Draco…do you want me to…?” he asked stupidly. The grey eyes that looked like liquid silver, molten and glowing, opened to look at him. The shuddering pants were almost sobs at this point, he looked half imploring, half distraught.

“Y-yes, please…do something…!” he breathed, his knuckles white as he gripped the fabric of his own robes tightly.

“Ok, ok… I will, don’t worry...” Harry said, almost instinctively pulling his own cloak and jumper off. He got onto the bed beside Draco and gently pulled him so his head was on the pillow, starting to worry he would hyperventilate soon as his breathing only grew rougher and more shallow. Harry hesitantly started undressing him, unbuttoning his shirt and undoing his belt and trousers, seeing the very clear shape of his arousal. He peeled off Draco’s jumper and shirt with no resistance, Draco’s skin jumping at his touch, and making him moan every time Harry touched him. Harry found himself marvelling at the Malfoy’s body, seeing it properly for the first time. He had ignored his own feelings last time because Draco had been treated so badly…so now that he was in those boys’ positions, Harry decided he’d treat Draco better than he’d probably ever been treated before

“P-Potter…!” Draco gasped, almost managing to sound firm through his panting and shaking and jerking hips. Harry nodded and pulled Draco’s trousers and underwear down to reveal he was rock hard, unsurprised to find the green silk briefs sticky and wet. _He did come earlier then, just from my touching his arm…_ Harry thought, amazed and so aroused. It almost felt primal, like a dog reacting to a bitch in heat, it was so natural. He removed Draco’s shoes, socks, trousers and pants, discarding them onto the floor.

He leaned over the quivering, naked boy and tongued his neck, his hand moving over his chest and stomach. Draco was moaning freely now, mewling and keening, begging Harry. His erect cock was leaking profusely, pooling on his flat stomach, his hips shaking, toes curling and uncurling as he spread his legs wide.

Harry settled himself between the blond’s legs, rubbing his own erection, trapped in his trousers, against Draco’s bare one. The roughness of the fabric against the extremely sensitive member made Draco scream and he came again over his own chest, but he remained hard and leaking.

“Fuck…!” Harry growled, opening his own trousers with fumbling urgency, feeling about to explode himself. Draco was crying, trying to turn onto his side, hiding his face behind shaking hands as he sobbed. Harry grabbed his hands, pulling them away with firm gentleness, and kissed Draco deeply. He felt him buck beneath him, his moan muffled by their lips pressed together. Harry pushed his tongue into his hot, wet mouth, moving his hands down Draco’s quivering sides. Harry knew this must be maddening for Draco, but this was the first time he’d touched anyone so intimately, and the fact it was Draco Malfoy felt incredibly surreal. He wanted to savour it before he woke up.

“Please…please…!” Draco begged when Harry finally released him, tears rolling down his cheeks, his breathing sounded almost panicked. His weak hands found Harry’s shoulders, fingers winding into the fabric of the shirt and pulling as hard as he could, only serving to wrinkle it. Harry stared down at him, looking into his eyes that were full of lust and fear, begging him to help. He leaned down and kissed at the wet tracks on his pale cheeks, pushing his hands under Draco’s back to hold him closer.

“I’m sorry…” he said softly. Draco made a small whimper-like noise, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry sank lower, closer, kissing his neck as he manoeuvred his clothing down to pull his own erection out. He huffed against Draco’s skin in relief, struggling not to let himself come. Their bare erections finally touched and Draco bit down on his own lip hard, apparently catching himself before he lost it again. Harry pressed his thumb into the blond’s mouth to stop him hurting himself, then kissed him again as he moved his hips, causing the most incredible friction between the hard cocks. Draco’s hands found Harry’s thick hair, fingers tightening almost painfully when he came again with a stifled scream.

Harry was shocked. Draco had come 3 times already in the last 5 minutes…it was incredible. “Draco…how much do you usually need before you feel better?” Harry asked him, not sure how much the blond’s body could take of this constant orgasming. He’d be completely exhausted in no time if this continued.

“N-Not…until…s-someone comes inside me…a f-f…few times…” Draco ground out, every muscle in his body shuddering. Harry swore under his breath, realising how much of a toll this would have on someone… No wonder he usually came here with three or more people…it must be so draining to do this all the time. It also struck Harry how invasive this curse was too; what if Draco wasn’t gay? What if he didn’t enjoy bottoming, or found it painful or, most likely, traumatic? It wouldn’t matter at all, he’d still be forced to go through it, or else go insane with this insatiable need. Harry held Draco tightly, overcome with emotion and adoration for the boy he used to have such distain for.

“Don’t worry, Draco, I’ll look after you. I promise, I’ll make you feel great.” He said softly, kissing him almost chastely before sitting back on his heels. He looked down at Draco’s spread legs, understanding what he needed to do before Draco would feel better. “Do you know a spell to…you know…?” he asked, gesturing down to Draco’s entrance. The blond nodded, and Harry got up to find Draco’s wand on the floor in his pile of robes.

Draco pushed himself up on his elbows and took his wand in a shaking hand, gripping it weakly before pressing it to his own entrance, which made him twitch and shiver.

“L-Lubrico…” he muttered, jerking his wrist, and a jet of clear, slick-looking liquid spurted from the tip of Draco’s wand, covering his entrance. Harry stared in awe, his mouth slightly agape. Draco placed his wand on the bed beside himself, then moved his hand down between his own legs. He bit his lip as he pushed one finger inside himself, turning his head so Harry couldn’t fully see his face, clamping his knees together almost defensively. This made Harry wake up instantly and he rejoined him, gently parting Draco’s legs, kissing his knees soothingly, which made him sob softly, his body trembling with want.

He leaned over Draco, who had a hand over his mouth to muffle his own moans, and kissed him again, gently moving his wrist away. He made a decision and slowly pressed one of his own fingers inside Draco. The Malfoy moaned into the kiss, his whole body jerking, his insides twitching and tightening. It was very hot inside him, and very tight despite the generous amount of lube. Draco withdrew his own finger, the sensation becoming too much for him to handle, and Harry replaced it with another of his own, then a third, sinking them as deep as they would go, twisting and stretching. Draco came again as Harry finger fucked him, his insides clenching round Harry’s digits incredibly, and made him instantly want to be inside him.

“Draco…Draco, can I…? I’m going to explode…” he panted, already rubbing the lube into his own aching cock. Draco looked at him, eyes wide and wet with tears, and nodded hesitantly. Harry made an effort to catch his breath, the overwhelming arousal he was feeling making everything rather difficult. “Ok…” he whispered mostly to himself, kneeling up on the mattress and taking hold of Draco’s hips, pulling them up so his bum was lifted off the mattress.

Draco was still relentlessly hard, the come glistening on his chest and his lust-clouded eyes making him look beautifully obscene. “Fuck…” Harry muttered again, his glasses steaming up completely so he took them off and dropped them down on the bedside table. Then he leaned over Draco, bracing himself on one hand beside Malfoy’s waist on the mattress while the other positioned his cock at Draco’s entrance. “R-ready…?” he asked, panting, the hot, twitching hole against his tip was very nearly too much for him to handle.

Draco nodded, and Harry slowly pushed himself forward. The tip of his erection disappeared inside Draco, the tight heat around it making Harry gasp, almost collapsing on top of him. Draco let out a long, loud moan, punctuated by a scream when Harry impulsively thrust himself all the way inside Draco, his back arching almost inhumanly as he came yet again. Harry stayed still, marvelling at this and not wanting to overstimulate Draco, but the Malfoy’s hand found Harry’s supporting arm and held it tightly.

“Keep…k-keep going...!” he cried, his hot hand making Harry want it all over him. He leaned down over Draco, one hand on the pointy hip as he started thrusting, deep and slow, the rhythm making Draco moan so erotically Harry was nearly tipped over the edge half a dozen times. He went down on his elbow beside Draco’s head, his body feeling like it was almost protecting Draco’s as they moved together. Draco was meeting his thrusts now, clearly wanting Harry to come as much as Harry did.

Their faces were inches apart, their breaths and moans intermingling in the hot air between them. Harry stared down at Draco, his poor vision having made it hard to see his expression without being this close. Tears were rolling down Draco’s cheeks, his mouth was open and wet, his tongue undulating invitingly over and against his teeth, which occasionally brushed his bottom lip, which was plump and raw from kissing. It was much pinker than usual, as were his cheeks and around his eyes. His eyes were what struck Harry the most. His eyes looked like hot metal, shimmering and incandescent silver, alive with want and lust.

Harry kissed Draco deeply, his hand in the blond’s hair, thrusting as deep as he possibly could, pushing Draco’s hips up off the mattress, his spine bowed. Draco screamed into the kiss, his insides tightening impossibly around Harry’s cock, and Harry felt himself plunging into the deepest, purest pleasure he’d ever felt, like electricity in his blood as he pumped Draco full of his cum, moaning into Draco’s mouth.

Their lips parted, both panting and shaking from their almost simultaneous orgasms. Draco was looking up at him, his vision a little clearer, a little more of his control back. He let out a couple of breaths, trying to regain some composure, before speaking in a cracked, breathy voice.

“Thank you, Harry…” he said. Harry stared at him, his legs shaking and softening, overly sensitive cock still inside Draco.

“N-no…no problem…” he replied, before smiling. Draco frowned for a moment, confused, before he let out a soft laugh, and then they were both laughing, then kissing again. Harry removed himself from inside Draco, making them both gasp, and roll them over so he was on his back with Draco on top of him, legs still either side of Harry’s hips. Harry’s hands found Draco’s arse as they kissed, and then his fingers found the heat of his hole, leaking come and still twitching, the muscles soft and extremely inviting. It didn’t seem to matter that they were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, they were just bodies that wanted each other, chemicals in need of reactions.

Draco sat up as they kissed, one hand on Harry’s chest while the other reached behind himself to grip Harry’s already rehardening cock. Harry’s mouth followed the blond’s, leaning up on his elbows to keep the connection, moving one of his hands from Draco’s hole to grip his insatiably hard cock. It must be painful, he thought, judging from how Draco flinched at the contact even as he bucked into the touch.

“R-ready?” Draco asked this time, breaking the kiss, his lips wet and eyes misty and face beautiful. Harry nodded quickly, his almost erection instantly becoming full mast, sitting up fully to meet Draco’s chest as he sat in his lap, holding him steady. Malfoy used Harry’s shoulder to push himself up on his toes, positioning Harry’s cock before sinking down on it all the way to the hilt. Draco’s head fell back, his mouth open in a low moan, his hand gripping Harry’s shoulder tightly. Harry’s eyes, despite his lack of glasses, focused on the white flesh of Draco’s neck and his mouth literally watered. His hands grabbed Draco’s arse cheeks, fingertips touching where he and Draco were connected, and lavished the pale throat with almost frenzied kisses and bites. Draco half choked on his pleasure, coming yet again, but nothing came out this time. He let out a sob, exhausted, and collapsed against Harry, his body trembling.

Despite his lust filled mind, Harry was concerned, wrapping his arms around the very slender figure, attempting to remove himself from Draco if it was causing him pain. But Draco held Harry’s shoulder and pushed himself back to look into his eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. His face was still pink, eyes still showing his body’s need, but he looked so sad. “Don’t stop, please…!” he begged, his voice hoarse with exhaustion and desperation. Harry stared at him, seeing how badly this curse affected him. He must have been enduring these feelings for days, the physical strain this level of need had on him was enormous. Harry shook his head, kissing the wet saltiness on his hot cheeks.

“I won’t, I promise… But I’ll do the work, ok? You just relax, I’ll look after you.” He said. Draco looked at him, stormy eyes wide, like he wasn’t able to believe what he was hearing. Harry smiled and kissed him deeply, rolling them back over so Draco was on his back. Harry grabbed a thick pillow and lifted Draco’s hips, placing the pillow beneath them so as not to strain his back. “Nice and gentle, ok?” he asked, genuinely wondering what Draco preferred, and Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck.

“Please…” he said very softly, and that was all Harry needed to know. He’d been treated so roughly all this time, that was obvious; first Voldemort, then those brutes in seventh year…he just wanted something nice…gentle and caring.

Harry’s pace from then on was deep and slow, letting them feel every inch of each other as he moved inside Draco, who was able to regain some energy from the gear shift and recommenced his exquisite moans of pleasure. It was a very satisfying pace for the both of them. Draco came twice more before Harry, and after a break they were at it again. Three was Harry’s limit, but Draco’s fever seemed to have been quelled for now. The blond boy lay on the bed after casting his clean-up spells, completely exhausted and already mostly asleep, and Harry was more than willing to join him under the covers and pull him in close, falling asleep the happiest he’d been in a long while.

*

The next morning, Harry woke up to soft, white light from the windows, through which he could see big fat snowflakes falling. Draco was fast asleep beside him, snuggled up close to him under the blankets. They were both still naked, Harry’s arms wrapped around the Malfoy’s narrow waist. He could feel the steady breaths on his chest as Draco slept, his fingers curled idly between them. Eventually, Harry realised he was very, very thirsty, and slowly and carefully extracted himself from around Draco, not wanting to wake him up. He sat up and put his glasses on, looking around the room for the pitcher of water that had been here last time. There it was, on the table beside the sofa, the fire crackling merrily as always. He felt wonderful as he got up, leaving Draco asleep as he padded over and drank the cool liquid greedily, some spilling down his bare chest in his haste. He burped and turned back towards the bed, yawning and scratching his messy hair, when he spotted something odd on the sheets.

Two piles of wrapped presents sat there, one for Harry and one for Draco on their respective sides. After realising it was, in fact, Christmas morning, Harry felt a hot flush over his entire body. The house-elves…the house-elves had seen them in here together…they knew… Harry went over to the Christmas presents slowly, as if scared they’d attack him, and picked up a small note from his own pile.

 _'Happy Christmas, Harry Potter! We thought you would want your presents and breakfast in here with Master Malfoy! Dobby xoxo'_ was written in surprisingly neat pencil.

“Well…that’s a tad embarrassing…” Harry muttered to himself, rubbing his hand over his face, wanting to laugh and burn the note like it never happened.

“What’s embarrassing…?” a croaky voice asked, and Harry looked up to see Draco sitting up slowly, surrounded by the thick, rumpled quilt, rubbing his eyes.

“Morning… Uh, this…” Harry said, handing Draco the note despite him looking half asleep. Draco yawned as he read the note slowly, frowning slightly in concentration. Then he looked at Harry, eyes wide with realisation. “Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone.” Harry said quickly, though he was fairly sure Draco was more vexed by the fact they were here together in the first place. “Your Christmas presents are here, by the way.” He said, looking through his own gifts. There was a big soft parcel from Mrs Weasley, an obvious book from Hermione, a smaller, hard box from Ron, and assorted others from Order members and friends. Draco’s pile was rather smaller than Harry’s, though he suspected the gifts would be more expensive than his own haul.

Draco looked around, holding the bedsheets up to his chest shyly. Harry understood and picked up a shirt from the floor, passing it to him. Draco took it hesitantly, thanking him, and pulled it on. He did up all the buttons before standing up, the shirt reaching his mid thighs so he was fully covered, but pulled his underwear on too. He went round the bed to join Harry, half-heartedly looking through the items.

Harry pulled on his own discarded boxers, gathered his own gifts and went to sit in front of the fire, laying the bundles on the coffee table he didn’t recall being there before. “I’m starving…” he said, with a happy sigh.

“There’s some plates there…” Draco said and Harry looked over at him. He was pointing to the table by the wall, where two covered plates were sat, as well as a flagon of hot tea, and a jug of cold orange juice.

“Wow!” Harry cried, getting up to inspect. He pulled off one of the covers to find a plate full of what they usually had for Christmas breakfast: full fry up, pancakes, bagels, and smoked salmon. “Wicked…” Harry said with a grin, holding his hand over the food and finding it to be piping hot. “Are you hungry?” he asked, looking over his shoulder to Draco. The blond looked at him and nodded. Harry grinned and grabbed his wand, levitating everything over to the coffee table. They both sat down, Draco having brought his own presents over to the sofas, and dug in. Harry glanced at Draco frequently as they ate, surprised and pleased to see him wolfing the food down hungrily.

Harry opened his present from Mrs (and Mr) Weasley, finding a wonderfully expected knitted jumper. It was a nice earthy red this time, almost orange, with a silvery stag on the front. He grinned and pulled it on over his bare torso, smelling the warm comforting fabric happily. He looked up to see Draco watching him almost longingly, but when he realised Harry was looking at him, he frowned.

“Where did that come from?” he asked disdainfully.

“Ron’s mum makes them every year, they’re really comfy. I’ve got 7 now, they’re always different. Last year was a golden stitch.” He said, smiling. Draco didn’t seem to know how to react to this information, so he nodded and returned to his meal. Harry regarded him for a moment, feeling a little sad, and did the same.

They finished their meals and Harry got right back to opening his gifts. Hermione had given him a book about becoming an Auror and other advanced magical careers, which looked really interesting, Ron had given him some new Quidditch goggles with his glasses prescription so he’d be able to see (he assumed Hermione had helped a lot with that one) and a selection of sweets, Tonks had sent him a very fancy shaving set with a note that said _‘can’t tame the beast’s hair so shave its chin’_ which made him laugh. Fred and George had given him a load of his favourite Wizard Wheezes products, Alistair Moody, he assumed, had sent an unwrapped Sneak-o-Scope. Remus had sent a lovely pocturr of the Marauders, excluding Wormtail, and his mum, Lily, at some formal shindig where they’re all dressed up, raising the champagne glasses and grinning away, in a nice silver frame. On the back was written _‘Found this in Grimmauld Place, this is the night your mum and dad got engaged!’_ which gave Harry a lump in his throat he had to suppress by taking a sip of tea.

Then he looked up at Draco, who had only opened a couple of gifts: an expensive-looking set of scarf, gloves and hat, and what looked like diamond cufflinks in one parcel, the note told him it was from Blaise, and a brightly coloured set of silk underwear and matching dress socks from who could only be Pansy. There was an immaculately wrapped present which like a large book and maybe a small box on top which he seemed to be avoiding completely.

“Is that from your parents?” Harry asked, knowing the answer as he gestured to it. Draco sighed and nodded.

“My mother buys excellent gifts...” He said softly, fingers sweeping over the metallic red paper. Harry watched him a moment before speaking.

“It’s ok to forgive them...I know you want to.” He said. Draco glanced at him and nodded stiffly.

“I do want to...but I can’t...” He said softly, slowly opening the gift. Harry nodded, understanding completely.


	3. Chapter 3

The gift from Narcissa was a beautifully illuminated tome of potions, dating back centuries, which was completely perfect, and a set of crystal and copper measuring apparatus. Obviously his mother knew potions was his passion, and he seemed pleased by the items, but the sadness and slight anger he felt was clear as day.

“She tries to make up for it...like gifts will help… I know it's the only thing she _can_ do but...nothing else can change.” He said softly, his fingers barely ghosting over the smooth inked drawings on the crisp, though aged, parchment. Harry sighed and leaned over, taking Draco's hand and squeezing it. The blond looked at him, and Harry smiled.

“It will get better, Draco.” He promised. Draco smiled slightly and nodded.

“Yes...I hope so.” he said softly, looking at Harry for a moment before withdrawing his hand slowly. They sat in more silence while they finished their breakfast and presents opened, then Harry asked the question burning in his mind.

“How come…no one helped you this time? Have they all gone home?” Draco nodded slowly, looking down. “Who would you usually ask?” Harry asked, trying not to show how incredibly curious (and a bit jealous) he was. Draco glanced at him before sighing.

“The seventh-years usually…sometimes people from other houses… Blaise on occasion…” he said the last part quieter, knowing Harry would be…upset about it, though he wasn’t sure why, or why he should care. He glanced at the Potter boy again, finding his expression stony. “Only if I’m really desperate. He’s not gay, he says it’s more instinctive anyway. Goyle’s helped me once or twice as well, but he’s too big…” he said with a shrug.

“Wow…you must be grateful for such good friends…” Harry muttered, trying to sound happy. Draco smirked.

“I am, to a degree… I wish I didn’t need to ask it of them, though…” he muttered, combing his fingers through his blond hair.

“Yeah, I definitely get that…” he said with a sigh, thinking of all the things he’d put his own friends through over the years. “So…it has to be sex? Have you tried…blowjobs? If it’s just cum it might-” but Draco was shaking his head.

“I’ve tried so many things…blowjobs, handjobs and just swallowing it, that didn’t work…” he sighed, blushing slightly, bringing his bare legs up to curl up on the sofa. “It was rather disgusting, but Blaise even gave me some of his to experiment with…I put it in food, drinks, on its own, put it…up there…nothing. It has to be sex with males, and they have to come inside my arse or I…I feel like I’m burning alive…” he said, sipping his drink but Harry was fairly sure it was just to hide his face for a moment.

“That’s… Do you like it? Ever?” he asked. Draco looked at him, blushing again, and curled into a tighter ball, looking down again.

“Sometimes…it’s difficult to say, my body reacts to it but it can be…nice… I’ve never liked it with the seventh-years…there’s always too many of them, and they say such cruel things…” he looked into the fire then, his jaw tight. He took a deep breath before continuing. “I liked it with Blaise but…I’ve never liked it anywhere near as much as I liked it with you.” He said, barely even glancing at Harry.

Harry felt his heart swell, and he smiled at his nemesis.

“I…I really liked it with you…” he said. Draco looked at him, silver eyes wide. “I mean…it was my first time, so I have no frame of reference to compare it to,” he laughed nervously, realising that was too many words, and took a breath, “but it was…incredible.” Draco seemed to wince at the admission, though he seemed to have known because he didn’t comment, just nodded slightly, before sighing deeply.

“Yes, well... Don’t get used to it, Potter...” he muttered with little of his usual venom. Harry felt compelled to say what was plaguing his mind.

“Will you really go back to asking those 7th years? They treat you so badly...” he said softly. Draco glared at him then, looking very Malfoy for a moment.

“What’s the alternative? They serve a purpose, they’re willing and I’d rather a few hours with them once or twice a month than going completely insane, thank you very much.”

“I understand that but...wouldn't you prefer to...like it? It must be hard for you, being with them. Why else would you let them drug you if you didn’t hate it?” he asked, staring wide-eyed at the blond boy. Malfoy looked angry for a moment, perhaps thinking of something vicious to say, but looked away, seeming to shrink slightly. He shook his head slowly.

“What else can I do...?” he asked softly, sad. Harry stared at him for a moment before making a decision.

“Come to me.” He said. Draco looked at him, frowning slightly. “Next time you’re starting to feel...you know, find me and we can come here and...” he realised he was being forward, but it seemed like a good deal for the both of them...unless Draco truly didn’t want Harry to help him again. He looked at the blond, and was surprised to see him looking thoughtfully at Harry, as if considering the option. Hopeful, Harry attempted to sweeten the deal, so to speak. “We wouldn’t even need to be friends, we would just-"

“Shut up, Potter...” Draco muttered with a very him eye roll, then sighed. “If...I require your assistance again...I might ask you to help me again. Do you have any coins on you?” he asked. Harry frowned slightly, not expecting this turn of events, and grabbed his trousers from where they’d been laid over the sofa. He pulled out a handful of coins, both muggle and wizarding, and showed them to Draco. The blond then selected one 10p and one sickle, waving away the rest. He then cast a spell over the both of them, Harry recognising it as the same spell Hermione had cast for the DA coins.

“Is that the Protean Charm?” Harry asked, and Draco nodded. He gave the 10p back to Harry, before squeezing the sickle still in his own hand. Instantly, Harry felt the 10p heat up and vibrate softly on his palm. “So if you need me...call me?” He asked, biting on a smile. Draco nodded and placed the sickle in his shirt pocket, not getting the muggle reference, nor noticing Harry's giddiness.

“We'll meet here.” He said, business-like. “And Potter,” he said, Harry looking up at him to meet the steely grey eyes looking at him seriously, into his soul “don't tell anyone. About any of this.” Harry nodded automatically,  then felt a pang of guilt.

“Um...full disclosure, I told Hermione about your situation when you first told me. I thought maybe she knew anything about it but…” he sighed. “I'm really sorry, Malfoy.” he looked at Draco again and saw he looked slightly angry, but not as much as he'd expected.

“Can Granger keep a secret?” he asked after a moment. Harry nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, yeah, she can, you can trust her with anything.” he said, trying very hard not to make a ‘that's why her hair is so big, it's full of secrets’ joke, knowing full well Draco would have absolutely no idea what he was talking about. Draco nodded, and sighed.

“That's fine… Just not Weasley.” he said, a tone of pleading in his voice. Harry shook his head.

“No, don't worry. Ron wouldn't understand at all, I wouldn't even want to tell him, honestly.” he said. Draco smirked slightly and nodded.

“Good, that's that then…” he said before standing up, and going back to the bed to gather his clothes.

“Are you leaving?” Harry asked, turning to look at him over the back of the sofa. Draco looked at him, frowning slightly.

“What else am I to do?” he asked, pulling on his trousers. Harry sighed.

“Malfoy, you're really thick sometimes. We can stay in here, no-one else is around. We can play games or talk or…”

“Fuck?” Draco supplied viciously with a scoff. “I'm not like you, Potter, I don't need people around me all the time, I enjoy my own company…” he muttered.

“It's not about that, I'm not asking you because you're my only option. I _want_ to spend time with you, mad as that sounds…” he said, adding the last part almost to himself. Draco frowned at him. “Anyway, its bloody Christmas,  you're supposed to spend it with people you'd rather not spend time with.” he sighed, then grinned. “There's a chess set here, if you fancy it?” he asked with a chuckle, pulling a large box out from under the coffee table. Draco sighed dramatically and returned to sit down, crossing his legs and glaring at Potter.

“Fine, Potter, _one_ game.” he conceded, watching Harry set up the pieces. He gave Draco the black side, sensing he preferred that, and Draco didn't complain so he assumed he was correct.

They played one game, Draco slaughtering Harry. Even after years of playing Ron, Harry still wasn't the best chess player. Draco had a cunning, strategic mind and he was ruthless to say the least. Being a prideful person, Harry challenged him to another game and Draco, being an arrogant person, accepted.

They ended up playing for most of the morning and half the afternoon. Drinks and snacks appeared at random as soon as one of them thought they fancied something, and a full roast dinner with all the Christmas trimmings appeared around 4 o’clock.

It was dark by the time Draco realised how long he'd stayed in the Room with Potter, and how much he'd enjoyed the day. They'd laughed and talked and had so much fun that it didn't matter who they were or what they did the night before, they were simply friends there.

“I...I'm going back to my dormitory now…” Draco said decisively, finally getting dressed properly. He needed time alone, sleep in his own bed, take a _shower_. The cleaning spell had done it's best but it didn't compare to a nice hot shower, few things did.

“Ok, yeah… I probably should too. Listen, um...I really had fun today, with you. It was good.” Harry said, feeling incredibly awkward but needing to tell him. Draco looked at him with slightly blank expression, then nodded slowly.

“Yes...I had fun too. Thank you, Potter...for everything. And, um, keep that coin on hand, alright?” he said. Harry grinned and nodded, holding it up to show him. A ghost of a smile appeared on Draco's pale face, before he turned away quickly to pull his shoes on.

“You're on my list, by the way…” Harry said after a few moments of silence, staring at the fire’s reflection on the polished stone floor. Draco turned to look at him with a frown, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What list would that be?” he asked in a sneering sort of way, having no idea what to expect. Harry looked at him and smiled.

“My list. It's called ‘Reasons to Kill Voldemort’.” He said with a chuckle. Draco's expression seemed to go through every possible emotion in the space of a few seconds, then he let out a small laugh, gripping the bedpost tightly.

“Well...There are worse lists to be on, I'm sure…” he said, strangely overwhelmed by this admission. Potter planned to fight for him, and planned to win. What would his life be like if the Dark Lord no longer existed? True, his father would be in Azkaban, their family name and fortune all but gone, the Manor sold or abandoned. He and his mother could survive though. She had her Black family money, what little remained, and he could get a job… Potions, that's what he wanted to do. Work for the Ministry, or even open his own shop - an Apothecary, of sorts.

“Draco?” Harry's soft voice asked, and he returned to the world with a small jolt. He was sitting on the mattress, the fire crackling behind Potter and making his hair look even wilder.

“I...I hope you win, Potter, really I do.” the blond boy said weakly, his eyes stinging so he closed them. Harry stood up quickly, going over to him. He put a hand on his waist in case he fainted, he'd suddenly gone so wobbly.

“Draco? Are you ok? Are you having another attack?” he asked. Even after a good night's sleep and nearly a whole day, he wasn't sure he'd be able to help Draco properly so soon. But Draco was shaking his head, one hand on Harry's arm as the other held onto the bedpost for dear life.

“No, I'm fine. I just…” he bit his lip, unable to articulate the tornado of feelings in his mind, but everything stopped when Potter pulled him into a tight hug.

“It's alright, Draco, it's going to be ok, I promise…” Harry was saying, his voice sounding emotional too. “When this war is over...everything will be better. And I'm going to beat him...I have to…” he whispered, hugging Draco tighter and burying his face in Draco's shoulder. The blond was shocked to feel his shirt getting damp. He felt himself hug back, he was _hugging_ Harry Potter.

He knew it was ridiculous for that to be the thing he was shocked by, after he'd spent Christmas Eve being fucked by Potter within an inch of his life, but this felt by far the strangest turn of events. He'd never considered how Potter must feel, dealing with all this ‘Chosen One’ nonsense; being the only person in the world who _could_ defeat Voldemort, and he wasn't even 18, hadn't even sat his N.E.W.T.s., and yet he was expected to kill the most powerful dark wizard of all time.

Draco hugged Harry and Harry hugged Draco, their shared feeling of utter helplessness and the gravity of their mutual burdens uniting them even as it weighed them down. Draco had been through awful things, seen death and horrible torture at a far younger age and more often than anyone ever should, been raised to hate and hurt and grown up surrounded by criminals and evil. They both knew life wasn't fair, had learned the hard way, but here they were, whole and alive and they both wanted to live. They understood each other better than anyone, they realised, and that made them both feel whole, and wanted.

Harry parted from their hug to look into sad grey eyes, Draco looking back into sad green ones, and they shared a kiss. Then the blond boy moved away slowly, smiling slightly, and left with a bundle of his Christmas presents. Harry stood by the bed, lips tingling and cheeks wet, and he smiled too. He felt...good.


End file.
